(Written in the evening, Wednesday Dec. 11, 2002)

    I guess it has been cathartic to spew my guts on the page today, but listening to Miranda Stone helps too.

    You know the one thing I can say right now about this ever-elusive hope, is that there MUST be hope if I am so hungry for it!

    I know this sounds wierd but the existence of this inquetiable hunger for it, and this terror at seeming lack of it tells me that hope is real.

    If that hunger is genuine (and every atom of my atomic body says it is so) then hope must be true. If hopehunger exists, then there must be satisfaction.

    Or maybe not? Just like the song, maybe I’m not meant to get any satisfaction?

    There really is no telling. What I do know that hope might be elusive, it might be as wild as goose, but it is real and I’m not giving up on catching it someday.

    Ok, enough spiritual-metaphysical random talk. I gotta get my mind wrapped around some UCC Article 2 right now…